


daily routine of a ghost

by dobranoc (skullastic)



Category: N/A - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 14:02:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10466703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skullastic/pseuds/dobranoc
Summary: in which she has many regrets about things.





	

the house was empty, its inhabitants gone to work. 

she ran a finger across the desk, gathering a fine film of dust. it was decades past her death, and by the looks of the scene, her family hadn't moved her things a bit. she hadn't seen any of them around since she came back to visit (so to speak), but little by little, through inference, she began piecing together a hypothetical idea of what life was like for them.

did they try to forget her, when she left? did mother have to drag herself every day to work to numb the pain; did father stay up late with beer bottles in his hand? did brother eventually stray farther away from home little by little every day because he was ridden with unwanted memories, sharing a house with the ghost of a person he once admired?

or, as she cruelly forced herself to think the alternative, did they not even have to try? 

she paced around the room, mouth dry, veins cold. though in her superego's act of self preservation attempted its best, underneath her silent demeanor her legs still shook- barely noticeable to the eye or to her, but growing more obvious by the minute.

when the weary "i'm home" resounded into the still air, she had the immediate and strong impulse to escape as fast as she could. but she didn't. was that father? brother, now older than her the last time she saw him? 

footsteps down the hall and approaching, but still her legs were useless, so she quickly closed her bedroom door to avoid seeing anyone face to face. she cursed herself for being so non-confrontational. as the presence passed her doorway, she shut her eyes tightly, as if to ward off some spying specter trying to prod into her soul. and then it passed as quickly as it came.

after she waited for her nerves to stop jittering, she stood up straighter and hesitantly creaked open the door. 

coast was clear. she made her way down. before every door she stopped to calm her breathing down. 

was it guilt? maybe.

more likely it was a mixture of longing and regret. 

she stood in front of her parents' room, a debate stampeding through her consciousness. every atom in her being was willed forward, but not enough. 

she turned around and left instead.


End file.
